Chapter 300

Vivian stormed out of the hospital, her anger boiling over.

"That arrogant bastard! Who does he think he is? So terrified I'll tarnish his precious friend's perfect life."

The sheer condescension made her blood boil.

She hailed a cab back to Blackwood Villa.

Evelyn was already waiting, wringing her hands nervously.

When Vivian appeared, Evelyn rushed forward. "Miss Viv, what happened? How could Lockhart Manor burn down while I was grocery shopping? Why did you tell me to meet you here?"

Seeing Evelyn's familiar face shattered Vivian's composure.

She collapsed into Evelyn's arms like a child, sobbing uncontrollably. "You took forever! Our home... it's gone! Everything's gone!"

"Hush now, Miss Viv. Don't cry!" Evelyn stroked Vivian's back soothingly. "Our home isn't gone. Home is wherever we are together. Buildings can be rebuilt. Dry those tears!"

"But the memories..." Vivian's voice broke. "We can rebuild the house, but Grandpa's fingerprints on the banister... Mom's favorite rose bushes... Dad's study... all gone to ashes."

"Memories live in here." Evelyn tapped Vivian's chest. "No fire can burn what's in our hearts. You're stronger than this, Miss Viv. The Lockhart heiress I know doesn't surrender to flames."

"You're right... I won't be defeated." Vivian wiped her tears.

Grandpa Arthur's words echoed in her mind - tears were for the weak. The strong transformed pain into power.

Self-pity was worthless. Rebuilding the Lockhart legacy mattered more.

"Evelyn, we'll rise stronger. We'll stay here while reconstructing Lockhart Manor. When we're done, all of Newport City will witness the Lockhart phoenix rising from ashes!"

Vivian's fierce declaration ignited Evelyn's spirit.

They began transforming Blackwood Villa, infusing every corner with Lockhart essence.

Morning came.

Vivian rose early and headed to the kitchen she knew intimately from four years of marriage.

Her cooking skills had gathered dust since the divorce.

Recently craving sour flavors, she decided to make lemon chicken feet.

As she finished marinating, Evelyn's tense voice interrupted.

"Miss Viv, we have... company."

"Company?"

Vivian wiped her hands and stepped out.

Eleanor Whitmore sat primly in the living room.

Not company. A harbinger of trouble.

Their last encounter had ended badly. This unexpected visit boded ill.

"To what do we owe this early pleasure, Mrs. Whitmore?"